


Handle With Care

by Somniare



Series: Phrase Challenge [5]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: A bit d/s, Established Relationship, M/M, Mostly Pwp, a teeny bit hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 01:27:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3672405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somniare/pseuds/Somniare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Aye, James could be discreet all right.  He was certainly keeping mum about whatever was the matter with him.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handle With Care

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tetsubinatu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetsubinatu/gifts).



> Tets said ‘pretty please with James on top!’ Hope this fits the bill.

* * *

 

“Morning, sir.”  James sat down without taking off his jacket, a rare occurrence in the over-heated office, and almost as rare as James being nearly an hour late on a Monday morning without a reason.

“Everything all right, sergeant?”

“Fine, sir.”  James met Lewis’s enquiring gaze and held it.  “Overslept.  I may have overdone things on the weekend.”

Lewis snorted.  James flashed a wicked grin and then turned his attention to his in-tray and computer.  Lewis watched James’s hands for a short while.  They danced easily over the keyboard, just as they’d danced over Lewis’s body for much of the weekend.

Six months they’d been together, flying under Innocent and Laura’s radar.  Six incredible months since Lewis had confessed his feelings to James, fully expecting him to transfer out or resign, only to discover James had felt the same way about him for nearly five years.  Five bloody years and Lewis hadn’t noticed once.  James would have done well in the Security Services.

They’d spent the entire weekend, from early Friday evening until after four on Sunday afternoon, in a cosy one-bedroom cottage on the coast near the Welsh border.  It had been James’s belated birthday present to Lewis, who had jokingly stated they had some catching up to do.  James had vowed to make it happen.

The memory of James’s hands on him was pleasantly distracting and arousing.  Lewis realised if he sat there any longer, he soon wouldn’t be able to stand without drawing unwanted attention to himself.

“Fancy a brew, James?”

“Hobnobs or Jammie Dodgers?” James asked as he pushed back from his desk.

“No, no, you stay there.”  Lewis waved his hand.  “I’ll get it.  Need to stretch me legs anyway.  Bit stiff after the weekend’s exertions.”  He stood and headed for the door

James looked at him appraisingly.  “”Not that stiff.  Not yet,” he murmured.

Lewis stopped and, despite his better judgement, grinned.  “Cheeky sod.”

“S’why you love me, sir.”

******

When Lewis returned with two steaming mugs and a half-packet of biscuits he’d managed to sneak out of the break room, James’s jacket was hung in its usual place.  James was on the phone.  He smiled his thanks as Lewis placed one mug in front of him.

“Thank you.  I’ll come and get them now.”  James replaced the handset.

“Get what?” Lewis asked as he freed several biscuits from their wrapping.

“Print and ballistics results.”

“About bloody time.”

James nodded his agreement.  He pressed both palms against his desk and pushed himself slowly to his feet.  Lewis watched James with growing concern as he made his way carefully through the outer office.

_That’s not right_.  Yes, their weekend had been very…energetic – almost acrobatic at one point – however, Lewis would have bet good money on himself being the one to suffer any physical after-effects, not James.  The lad was a stiff as board, and not in a pleasurable way.  “Overslept, my arse,” Lewis muttered.

Lewis kept an eye out for James’s return, and formulated his approach.  Tackling James head-on wasn’t always the wisest course of action, but neither was waiting for James to open up.

James entered the outer office twenty minutes later.  It was usually a ten to fifteen-minute trip, depending on how much had to be explained, but Lewis conceded James’s delay could have been the result of being held up by someone in the corridors rather than having to move slowly.  As Lewis continued to monitor James, Constable Keele accidentally bumped into the tall sergeant.  Keele turned his head in James’s direction and Lewis heard, “Sorry, sarge.”  James’s face briefly crumpled in pain but he raised a hand to acknowledge Keele’s apology and kept walking.  When he stepped into the office three paces later there was no indication he’d been hurt in any way.

“Anything unexpected?” Lewis asked casually.

“No.  Cut and dried.  Mr Winfield will be in HMP Oakhill for quite some time.”

“The sooner the paperwork’s off to CPS the better.”

“All under control, sir.”

“Right, then.”  Lewis stood and stretched.  He picked up his mug and drained the lukewarm tea.  “I’m off to that bloody community policing panel meeting.”

James looked up and tilted his head to one side.  “I thought you were excused from that?”

“I was until Mr Winfield confessed and gave up the evidence.  Innocent’s decided you’re more than capable of finishing it up – she’s still pushing for you to sit your inspector’s exams – and she’d ‘greatly value my input.’”

“In other words, you’re not slipping out of it this time?”

“Precisely.”

“What time do you expect to finish?”

“The agenda says four.”

“Hell.”

“Lunch is included though, so it’s not all bad.”

“External or station catering.”

“External.”

“Nice.  At least one of us will have a decent lunch.”

Lewis stopped by the doorway and slipped his jacket on.  “Back to mine for dinner tonight?”

“And whatever else pops up?”  James grinned.

“See you!” Lewis whispered.  “Keep that up you’ll get us both in trouble.”

“You know me sir: the soul of discretion.”

Lewis shook his head in fond exasperation.  Aye, James could be discreet all right.  He was certainly keeping mum about whatever was the matter with him.

*****

After dinner, James took the bag of rubbish and empty containers out to the bin.  Lewis stood in the living area and waited for him to return.

James hurried back in – it was getting chilly at night again – locked the front door and nipped into the bathroom to wash his hands.  He came out, looked into the empty kitchen, and stopped by the dining table when he spotted Lewis by the couch.

“Is there something wrong?” James asked, looking down at his clothes and back at Lewis

“Take your shirt off, please, James.”

“Excuse me?”  James tipped his head to one side.

“You heard me.  Take.  It.  Off.”

“Really, I must–“

Lewis’s eyes never left James.  “There’s something you’re not telling me, _sergeant_.”

James’s mouth opened and closed.  He blinked.  The top of his cheeks took on a crimson hue.  He removed his loosened tie, and then unbuttoned his shirt.  Lewis waited patiently while James neatly folded the garment and placed it on the table.  Then James simply stood there.

“T-shirt, too, please, James.”

James lowered his eyes.  “Can you help me?”

“What?”

James came forward until he was within arms’ reach of Lewis.  “It’s… can you help me?”

James raised his arms.  Lewis took hold of the hem of James’s t-shirt and started to lift.  Lewis’s fingers grazed James’s skin.  James shivered and winced.

“What have you done, pet?”  Lewis lifted the shirt up over James’s head and off, revealing heavy bruising along the lower ribs on James’s left side.  “You didn’t get that on the weekend, did you?”  God forbid they’d been _that_ enthusiastic.

“No.”

“Well?”

“I slipped on the kitchen floor this morning and hit the worktop on the way down.”

Lewis winced.  “When were you going to tell me?  You should have said something, you daft bugger.  Did you go to A&E?  Is that why you were late?”

“No point.  I was late because I started to stiffen up a little and it took me longer to get dressed and ready.”

“Which is why you kept your jacket on when you came in this morning?  Because I’d see straightaway something was wrong.”  James nodded.  “How do you know you haven't cracked a rib?”

“Because I can cough without excruciating pain.”

“That your expert diagnosis, Dr Hathaway, or have you cracked your ribs before?”

“Yes.  I was thrown off a horse once.  I’m just bruised.  I’m fine.  I’ve already started to loosen up.”

“Yet you needed help getting your t-shirt off.”

“I could have managed.”  James’s coy look didn’t fool Lewis.

Lewis huffed.  “You certainly didn’t look fine this morning, especially when Keele bumped into you.”

“He hit a tender spot.  I am fine.”

Lewis shook his head.  “Still think you should let someone take a look at it.”  James folded his arms across his chest stubbornly.  “I’d like you to take a couple of days off – I'll tell innocent something, don't you worry about that.  Rest is what you need.”

“Robbie, really, it’s–“

“The case is done and dusted, and we’re off the rotation.  If something does come up, Julie can help me; it'll be good experience for her.”

“Yes, but–”

“Do you have any idea what Innocent would do to me if she found out you were running around with bruised ribs and I knew about it?  You'll rest.  Please, James.  For me?”

James drew closer.  “For you?  Anything,” James purred.  “What if I can prove to you I’m okay?”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“I’m going to make love to you.  Right here.  Right now.”

“James, pet, come on.  I don’t want to risk hurting you.”

James reached out, removed Lewis’s tie, and started to undo the buttons on his shirt, kissing the skin beneath as it was exposed.  “Then you’ll have be hands-off, won’t you.  Let me control everything.”

“And how’s that supposed to work?”  Lewis’s hands hovered over James’s side.  _Not touch him?  When he was doing things like that?_

James’s hands reached the waistband of Lewis’s trousers.  Instead of pulling the shirttails out, James deftly unfastened Lewis’s belt and the button on his trousers, and opened the zipper.  “I can pace myself.”  James began to nuzzle Lewis’s neck.  “If something starts to hurt, I can change what I’m doing.  But I have to have complete control.”

Lewis stammered, “You…you’ve been… giving this… some… Oh, God…”  James’s hand had slipped inside the front of Lewis’s trousers, stroking his hardening cock, and cupping his balls.

“Thought?” James murmured against Lewis’s neck.  “Oh, yes.  Ever since this morning.”  James began to stroke Lewis’s cock.  Lewis moaned.  James chuckled.  “I didn’t want to lose any momentum from the weekend.”

“How... am I… supposed… to not… touch you,” Lewis panted.  James in charge was incredibly stimulating and irresistible.

Lewis whimpered as James pulled away, breaking all contact.  James’s eyes were dark, his neck and chest were flushed. 

“How indeed?” James murmured.

James’s eyes examined Lewis from head to toe.  Lewis could feel them on his body as keenly as he’d felt James fingers.  Then James walked away.  Lewis bit his bottom lip.  Had he said something wrong?  Was James having second thoughts?  _Bugger._

James switched on the side lamp and turned off the overhead light.  He moved into the kitchen and swapped the main light for the light on the cooker hood.  In the dimmed flat, the bruising on his side wasn’t as noticeable.  James still wasn’t moving as freely as Lewis was used to seeing, but he did seem to be in less discomfort than before.  James turned to face Lewis, and the light from the lamp cast shadows against him and highlighted the bulge in the front of James’s trousers.

James stayed where he was and started to unfasten his trousers.  “Will you take off your shoes and socks for me, please, Robbie?” he asked softly.  Lewis hurried to comply, perching on the arm of the couch.  “And your trousers and boxers, but not your shirt.”

Lewis soon stood by the couch wearing only his open shirt.  He was aching for James’s touch again.  He took a deep breath and looked at James, who was naked except for Lewis’s unknotted tie draped over one shoulder.

“Sit down on the couch, please, Robbie, with your fingers interlocked behind your head.”

It meant having his back to James.  Lewis complied.  He took a deep breath when James’s fingers settled on his arm, then he felt the smooth fabric of his tie being looped around one wrist and then the other, and then around his forehead, binding his hands to his head.  It wasn’t tight; he could slip free if he chose to, signifying he still had some control over the course of events.  He shuddered when James’s voice whispered in his ear, “Ready?”

“Yes.”  Lewis closed his eyes to steady himself, opening them wide again as James straddled his lap, the tip of his cock brushing against Lewis’s stomach.

“Shakespeare,” James said.

“What?”

“Your safe word.  Shakespeare.  If at any time you want me to stop–”

“I know what a safe word is, pet.  Three years in Vice, remember?”

James leant forward and kissed Lewis lightly.  “Yes.”  James hands began to caress him.  “Definitely ready?”

Lewis pushed up gently against James’s groin, wary of hurting him.  “Don’t think I could be readier if I tried.”

James smiled wickedly and claimed Lewis’s lips.

*****

Lewis groaned with relief as James undid the knot to free his hands, and then collapsed against Lewis’s chest with his head on Lewis’s shoulder.  Though Lewis could have lowered his hands at any time, feeling he was at James’s mercy had heightened every touch.

“You all right, pet?”  Lewis rested one hand on James’s shoulder, bringing the other to rest on the couch beside him.  The pins and needles were already beginning to fade.

“Never better,” James murmured, the words muffled against Lewis’s neck.

Lewis was sticky, sweaty, thoroughly sated, and trying to remember the last time he’d come so forcefully twice in less than a couple of hours.  James wasn’t in a much more respectable state.

“How’re your ribs?”

“Shower.  I need a shower.”

“We both do, love.  How are your ribs?”

“Fine.  As I said they would be if I had control.  My legs, however…”  Lewis could feel the trembling in James’s thighs even now.  “Shower with me, Robbie?  Hold me up?”

“Might need you to hold me up.”

“Mutual support.  Done.”  James sat back on Lewis’s lap.  He looked thoroughly debauched.

Lewis caressed James’s face, and James leaned into the touch.

“What are you thinking?” James asked.

“After all that, I shouldn’t be capable of thinking.”

James chuckled.  “And yet you are.  Will you tell me?”  Lewis felt his cheeks flush.  James raised a curious eyebrow.  “Please, tell me.”

“Will I have to wait for you to batter your ribs again for a repeat performance?”

“Oh, let me think about that.”  James cupped Lewis’s face between his hands and kissed him reverently.  He murmured against Lewis’s lips, “Tell me, Inspector, do you have any plans for tomorrow night?”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: "You heard me. Take. It. Off."  
> This started out as a hurt/comfort story. Somewhere along the way it was turned on its head.


End file.
